#nonbinary virgil

It was after the interval when Logan really started to pay attention. The prince character's costume had seemed excessively decorated, but during a moment where the actor was walking through the audience one of the pebbles hanging around the collar had begun to glow.  The detail seemed out of place and oddly timed, given the character's soulmate was currently absent from the scene so Logan had to pay more attention to the decorations.

He wasn't sure if the actor's costume was even allowed to use his real pebbles, but the four hanging around the collar weren't looked to when mentioning the soulmates in the performance; that pebble was set into the crest on the Prince's shoulder. The 3 that hadn't lit up also matched 3 of the colours of Logan's pebbles identically, and when he looked down, just before the actor moved closer to the stage, his fourth, vibrantly red pebble had also been glowing, just as the actor's indigo blue pebble had been.

If only to sate his curiosity, Logan found his way to the stage door once the final bows had concluded, waiting among fans of the show carrying programmes and other merchandise. His programme was already folded away, although he had checked it to learn the actor who had performed at the Prince was called Roman before leaving his seat.

“Hello Darlings, Anyone wanting a photo please step to one side while I sign the programmes I can first.” Roman emerging from the building had caused a surge forwards of the people waiting, but Logan was content to hang back, although remaining separate from the group that formed to wait for photos.

Logan was stood with his arms folded behind his back when Roman passed with a curious glance to the group wanting photos, only freezing when someone gasped, pointing to the indigo blue pebble now hanging from the left shoulder of Roman's jacket. Beside it, though not glowing was the purple one, while the light blue pebble and yellow ones hung from his right shoulder.

“Your soulmate's here, Roman!” one of the women waiting exclaimed, although Roman had already followed their points to the change and was glancing around.

Roman raised his right hand to unlatch the pebble from his shoulder, cradling it to him. “Indeed, it appears so. Perhaps everyone can show their own pebbles to me, that I might know whose soul I'm solemnly sworn to cherish and protect?”

“It lit up during your scene in the audience earlier too. I was curious if that was a malfunctioning prop or actually one of your pebbles.” Logan stated, bringing the wrist with his watch on up into Roman's eyeline.

“So you came to find me. What is your name, Handsome?” Roman took his hand to kiss the back of it and then the red pebble.

Logan smiled but pulled his arm back. “I'm Logan. It's interesting to meet you, Roman. Perhaps I could have your number so we can continue getting to know each other when you don't have 8 people eager to take photos with you?” He replied, fetching the small notebook he carried out of his bag.

“Of course, My dear Logan, please call me soon.” Roman soon signed and added his number to a page of the book, before returning to his fans.

/\/\

There wasn't a timetable for meeting your soulmate, or often soulmates, so Logan didn't mind taking his time getting to know Roman. In fact, months later, they'd only recently started referring to their relationship as dating when he started another night class to strengthen the chemistry basics he remembered.

He'd had to register without providing his titles to hopefully not be singled out as an already well-informed scientist, and intended to remain near the back of the class in case of being recognised. Watching the other adults coming into the class, he smiled at the mixture of people: there was someone almost clearly a frazzled parent from the felt tips pens they pulled out of their bag before sighing and resolving to just use them for their notes, and beside them was a person hunched into themself in a hoodie, who had just been carrying their notebook and pen in their hands when coming in. The other students were similarly diverse and seeing the shared interest in science for whatever motivations was wonderful.

That first class was interesting, and the reminder Logan needed it to be, bringing back information he'd learnt years ago even while teaching him a few new discoveries that he hadn't heard about. When he was leaving though a glance at his wrist to check whether it was early enough still to message Roman he paused at the purple glow shining over them.

Beside him was the hoodie wearer, still slouched in their seat while everyone else was halfway to the door. They glanced up when Logan cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow instead of saying anything.

“Excuse me, but can I ask where your pebbles are? As you can see, one of mine has begun to glow and I believe that indicates you might be a soulmate of mine?” Logan asked. It seemed reasonable that out of the four soulmates he had, one of them would chose to hide or disguise them, although he hoped that it was only the one.

He wasn't expecting to have eyes narrowed at him, nor their hood being yanked up and over their eyes.

“Yeah, I've got indigo blue glowing. That sound like a colour for you?” was mumbled a moment later from under the hood.

“That is the colour pebble Roman has that glows for me so I believe so. Do you also have a red pebble? Perhaps yellow and light blue ones also?” Logan nodded, despite the other being unable to see him, pulling a chair from the next desk out to sit and talk to the person.

There was a moment where they remained hidden, before peering out from under it, then pushing the hood off. “Yes. Is Roman the person for the red pebble then?”

“Indeed, and I am called Logan, he/him pronouns please. What's your name?” He registered that the introduction had been skipped when he started speaking to the person at the same time as he noticed a non-binary flag sticker on the front of their notebook and decided that mentioning his own pronouns might help them feel more comfortable around him, without calling attention to it.

“Virgil, good to meet you, I guess.” They scowled for a moment, before letting out a heavy breath. “Xe/Xir pronouns if you know how to use those. And uh, do I have to give you my number now?”

Logan tilted his head, frowning slightly. “Of course not. If you'd prefer to get to know me as much as we can throughout this class, then I am fine with that. Are you comfortable if I inform Roman of our meeting? He is likely to try to meet us from class one evening if I do so.”

“Fine, it'll be good to have some more of that mystery commitment reduced at least.” Virgil grumbled, but shoved xemself standing. “I gotta get back to my dog. It's time for their walk.”

“Then I'll see you next week, and hope you have a pleasant evening.” Logan nodded, turning to lead them out of the classroom with a wave to the teacher.

/\/\

“YOU MET ANOTHER OF OUR SOULMATES!?!” Roman's yell had undoubtedly disturbed some of Logan's neighbours but he doubted they'd come investigating too soon.

“Xe attended the evening course I've just enrolled in.” Logan nodded, bringing the drinks he'd been making over to the sofa.

Roman held a hand out demandingly but flat so an bizarre way to take his drink resulting in a questioning twist of Logan's lips. “Give me your phone, I have to call him and introduce myself immediately!”

“We didn't exchange numbers so that would be pointless. Are you going to take your drink or shall I place it on the coffee table.” Logan countered, already moving to place both mugs down in anticipation of the next reaction.

“You don't have a way to contact xem!?”

Logan shook his head. “This would be a lot easier if you let me explain before making your exclamations.” He stated but immediately continued, “We are going to be in the night class together for a matter of weeks and Virgil wasn't comfortable with giving me xir number. I am content to be patient and get to know xem on xir terms and xe is aware that you are likely to meet us from class if possible in order to meet xem.”

Roman blinked for a moment, breathing and letting the small scolding be understood before responding, “You've already asked if I can do that without making xem uncomfortable? What did you say xir name was?”

“Virgil and yes, I thought it prudent to mention knowing you while xe was hiding in their hoodie which I believe is where xir pebbles are kept.” Logan explained.

Their evening from that point was taken up by Logan describing the class and how his short conversation with Virgil had gone and hearing about how Roman's rehearsals for his next production were coming along.

/\/\

Roman still hadn't been able to make it to the end of Logan's night class and had been growing more determined each week to manage it. Today he was only scheduled to meet with the costume designer and their apprentice so hopefully should be able to make it to town in plenty of time for the end of Logan's class and he was very tempted to insist it so if the meeting overran.

He wasn't anticipating tripping over a rucksack with a top like a cats head as he walked into the room, although the gasp being accompanied by a groan of “Pattonn, what have I said about leaving your bag in doorways.” was an interesting introduction to the costume designers.

It was only once he'd pulled himself to an upright kneel about to stand that he registered one of the cats cheeks glowing red, getting brighter as a blushing man hurried over. “Oh my golly, I'm so sorry. Can I help you up?”

“No harm done, mi amour. Are you by chance the owner of this adorable bag?” He asked, standing himself and picking the bag up with one hand while the other reached to where he could just see a light blue glow shining off his shoulder.

“Golly! I am! I'm Patton, the apprentice designer for the show. Are you the Roman who'll be playing the knight?” Patton asked, reaching out to the blue pebble rather than taking his bag back.

Roman nodded, “That is I. Perhaps once you've finished measuring me and I've seen your designs we might get some dinner together?”

“I'm sure he'd be delighted, but I'd prefer to focus on our work. Please keep your need to know your soulmate under control until it is done.” A calm voice called from the other side of the room. The person had designed costumes for a few productions Roman had been a part of and he was happy to see Talyn again.

From there Roman and Patton remained focused mostly out of respect for Talyn and the work that needed to be done, but as soon as they were out of the room, Roman had to ask, “So do you know any of our other soulmates?”

“Unfortunately not, but I'm sure we'll have a wonderful time meeting them when life brings us together.” Patton shrugged, glancing down the street. “The cafe down there does some fantastic pasta dishes and their cookie dough desserts are to die for!”

“Lead the way then, my Dear.” Roman gestured ahead of him even as they kept pace together. “I do know one of our other soulmates, Logan, who's presented by the indigo blue. He's also met Virgil. Xir apparently purple but I haven't had to honour to meet xem just yet. Perhaps after we eat you could accompany me to their night class so we can all know each other?”

“That sounds delightful, but I do feel sorry for our yellow soulmate then. They must be so lonely.” Patton pouted a little at the thought.

Roman calmed, gently taking his hand. “Perhaps they are, but perhaps they are rather hopeful of the times to come? Were you feeling especially lonely before meeting me?”

“No, just curious mostly. I had my friends but I wanted to know how my soulmate connections might develop.” Patton admitted.

/\/\

Virgil froze as xe exited the class, still talking to Logan. Xe could recognise Roman from the descriptions xe'd been given over the weeks but hadn't been expecting another to be there as well.

“Virgil, is everything alright?” Logan asked, view still blocked by xir body as he followed xem, but understanding as he stepped to the side. “Hello Roman, who's this you've brought with you?”

“Our light blue soulmate, Patton. He's the apprentice costume designer for my next role so we just met this afternoon. I thought it should be okay for him to come with me so you can both meet him straight away, my darling!” Roman introduced, almost presenting Patton with how grand his gestures were before his gaze turned to Virgil. “You must be Virgil. I cannot apologise enough for the delay in our meeting. My performances and rehearsals have delayed this moment for far too long.” He bowed towards xem, holding a hand out.

Virgil meanwhile had taken a few steps back, tugging up xir hood and shaking xir head. “Too much. You're going to be a lot to get used to. Can – can you do notes through Logan? Or like I give him my number and occasionally we share messages if you're with him? Just until I'm not feeling overwhelmed by that energy?”

“Of course, Kiddo. I'm sorry if me coming put too much pressure on you for meeting us.” Patton's voice was soft as he tugged Roman to stand straight again. “You take all the time you need and we'll keep things at your pace okay. Although perhaps you'd like to come to the show? I believe Roman has already reserved tickets for Logan.”

“Actually for both our stars. I was waiting to meet Virgil to invite xem along. Do you have your own ticket or will you need to remain backstage to ensure there are no costume malfunctions?” Roman agreed, already having calmed his enthusiasm in the hopes it would calm Virgil a little.

Patton smiled, “I'll be back stage with you. Is that alright with you, Virgil?”

“I wanted to go when Logan mentioned you perform in shows. It seemed like a less pressured way to meet you if you hadn't managed to come here before then.” Xe mumbled, but glanced behind xem. “Here's my number, Lo. I'm going to go walk my dogs.” Xe shoved a piece of paper into Logan's hands before starting to walk away.

Xe didn't notice Patton turn to them eagerly nor visibly reign himself in at the mention of the dog, “Stay safe, Virgil. It's been lovely to meet you.”

“It's been a dream, our dark knight. Until we meet again.” Roman called, waving and getting a wave over xir shoulder in return.

Logan smiled, also waving, “Until our next class, Virgil.”

A glance at Patton and Roman showed neither was ready to separate quite yet. “How about we have a movie night at Roman's flat?” He suggested.

/\/\

When Virgil had first thought about going to see one of Roman's performances, xe'd thought it would be nice, a relaxing evening at the theatre. Xe'd been to the theatre it was being performed in before and knew it didn't need fancy clothes at all. Xe was repeating that to xemself but still felt like their normal top, hoodie and jeans combination would get xem frowned at.

That concern was what led xem, hoodie pulled up and tight, into a steampunk store, hoping for something a little more formal, if not noticeably so. Xe had found most of the shirts and blouses xir wore to work in the shop and hoped today would be the same.

Except xe had never had xir hood pulled up in the shop before and so had never noticed that when the shop owner came over the yellow pebble was lighting up.

“What will it be today, Virgil? Surely you don't need more shirts to wear to the job you detest.” Janus asked, coming around the counter as they always would, ready to help xem figure out what was needed for the events xir worried about.

Instead of speaking, Virgil raised shaking hands to pop the yellow pebble out and hold it up. “Theatre tonight?” Xe finally asked, looking at the pebble more than the person before xem.

“I never expected you to immediately suggest a date upon meeting your soulmate, Virgil. Is a theatre trip the reason you were coming in here before this realisation?” Janus's words were gentle, but their hands were unhooking something on the cape they always wore in the store.

A small bag of pebbles was held up, with the purple one indeed glowing between them. “All our soulmates will be there. I don't know how Logan expects me to dress but he's always formal and Roman was acting like I was some kind of prince the one time I've met him. Patton seemed gentle but kind of suffocatingly sweet too. What do I wear?” Virgil muttered out, meeting Janus's eyes and silently thanking whomever and whatever formed these pebbles that xe hadn't known they were xir soulmate until now. It had taken the pressure off getting to know them and meant xe was already able to ask for help rather than space.

“Oh Dark thing, I'm sure they will all accept you however you choose to appear and if you want me to come with you, then perhaps you could ask if they're able to get an extra ticket?” Janus suggested, already hooking their pebbles back underneath their cloak. “But if you do feel the need to dress up a little, I'm sure we've got a slip of a thing that would be perfect.”

“I'll text Logan. What do you mean, a slip of a thing?” Xe replied, following them further into the shop.

/\/\

Logan was waiting outside the theatre that evening, slightly lost in thoughts over crystals and whether there would still be claiming them as having magical powers in a world where soulmates weren't revealed by illogical and scientifically impossible pebbles when he spotted Virgil and xir mystery guest. He knew the stranger was meant to be his final soulmate but was momentarily enraptured by the loose dress-like top Virgil wore underneath xir hoodie.

“You look lovely, Virgil. Might I be introduced to our additional guest?” He greeted, stepping forwards and taking the hand already waiting to be held.

“This is Janus. I've been a regular in their shop for ages, but only today wore my hood up in there.” xe said, tugging the hand that held Janus's closer too.

Dear Roman,

Are you doing alright? Jan says you were crying and it made me worried for you. I hope you’re feeling better now. I’m feeling scared worried upset kind of sad and nervous. But I hope think know things will maybe be alright. Jan says they have an idea to fix things, but they won’t tell me what yet. But I trust them, so I’m hoping things will get better soon, even though they aren’t very nice right now. I really do hope you’re doing better when you get this.

Why didn’t you

I wish you had

Was I not

Did you

Anyway, I’m writing this letter to ask if you would please meet me tonight in the rose garden where we usually see each other? I’ll be there at half past midnight. I really hope I can see you. I think we should talk about things.

Love,

I miss you,

See you tonight (I hope),

Patton

P.S. I’m sorry Jan is being grumpy with you. I’m trying to get them to calm down about it all.

P.P.S. I hope you like the flower. It made me think of you.

Roman looked up, eyes brimming with tears, pressing a hand over his mouth to hold back a sob of equal parts fondness and sorrow and longing. Patton had written to him, written in his own words a message just for him, he’d—

“If he’s happy tomorrow morning,” Janus announced, “all is forgiven. If he’s trying to pretend he wasn’t up all night crying, I—” Their voice wavered just barely, but they tensed their shoulders and spoke the rest without hesitation. “I will quit my job and never speak to you again.” 

Roman nodded fast and hard. “Understood.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Thank you,” he added, voice cracking. He was surprised they’d given him a second chance at all, and he had absolutely no intention of wasting it.

Janus twitched one shoulder in a shrug, not quite meeting his eyes. “He said I should apologize,” they added stiffly. “For making you cry.”

Roman was quiet for a beat, not sure how to respond and not wanting to make the awkward tension between them worse. This was possibly the closest he’d ever heard Janus come to an apology, and he suspected it was meant as one—but at the same time, responding with anything directly acknowledging this would likely not go over well. “Lots of things make me cry, Janus,” he said after a moment, forcing a half laugh. “I guess it was only fair you got a turn.”

But Janus only seemed more unhappy at this reply, their mouth tightening in a frown. They crossed their arms harder and stared at the edge of the rug they stood on. “I was cruel.”

Roman winced. “I suppose.” He hesitated. “I… was foolish.” And that was to say the least of it.

Janus grimaced. “I suppose,” they echoed softly after a long pause. They shifted their weight back and forth, chewing their lip and fidgeting with their hands, looking worried and rather lost.

Roman hesitated again, then half-raised his arms in invitation, hoping he was interpreting their fretting correctly.

Relief melted into existence on Janus’s face faster than the sun emerging from a cloud, and they collapsed to sit on the sofa beside him and hug him, thin arms squeezing tight around his ribcage, hands fisting in the jacket on his back, and pointy chin digging into his shoulder.

Roman held them tightly, not bothering to complain about how sharp their chin was because just at this second it was the best feeling in the world. It was alright; it was alright, or at least, now he knew it could be alright again between the two of them, and it would be, and the relief of that knowledge was so intense it practically melted him. “You’re making me cry again,” he said, voice breaking on a noise that was half a sob and half a laugh.

“Shut up,” Janus said thickly into his shoulder. There was a poorly disguised sniffle. “Anyway, I’m still mad at you.” They hugged him a little tighter.

Roman nodded, pressing his cheek against his friend’s hair and rubbing their back. “Understood.”

Roman would happily have sat there and hugged Janus for as long as they would let him, but the noise of a bolt sliding open broke the quiet. Roman startled, looking over at the door to Remus’s suite, which had been taunting him with its blank silence for what felt like hours now.

The door cracked open and Remus poked his head out, wearing a gleeful expression that suggested that whatever was about to come out of his mouth would make Roman regret his entire life. Sure enough: “Very rude of you to call me a brat earlier when you knew I couldn’t say ‘kinky,’” he announced.

Roman groaned and stuck his fingers in his ears. “Oh my stars, shut up shut up I hate you I hate you I hate you I ha—”

Remus snickered and withdrew his head back into his room.

“No wait Remus I’m sorry no no come back wait please—” Roman scrambled over the back of the couch and sprinted across the sitting room, just a second too late, as Remus’s door thudded shut and the bolt slid into place.

“Remus!” he cried, kicking the door petulantly.

He was met with only silence for a long minute. At last from behind the door, Remus’s voice announced, “I’m not done being alone yet. I just wanted to make that joke, now that I can talk again.”

“Are you mad at me?” Roman blurted, desperate.

There was another silence, so long that he thought Remus wasn’t going to answer at all. Then, so quiet that Roman almost thought he’d imagined it—“Not exactly,” Remus said. “Go away.”

“Remus—” Roman pleaded.

“One time when we were five I put a worm in your lunchmeat and you ate it,” Remus interrupted, voice suddenly loud and jarring—which, since it was so horrible and so unrelated, meant that he was really and truly done with conversation and Roman needed to stop pushing now.

“I hate you,” Roman said with no bite. He had long since for his own peace of mind decided not to believe anything of this caliber that Remus said to him.

“Bitch,” Remus retorted, sounding fond. “Gonna ignore you now.”

“Jerk,” Roman retorted back in acknowledgement, and turned away to give Remus his space, drawing in a deep breath. He was not sure if he felt less worried or much more to learn that Remus was “not exactly” mad at him. What did that mean?

Janus was standing near the door out of the twins’ rooms, and, by their single raised eyebrow, had watched the whole exchange. “I’m… not even going to ask what any of that was.” 

Roman snorted. “That’s fair.”

Janus nodded and hesitated a moment more, looking like they wanted to say something. But at last, all they said was, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Roman,” and slipped out the door so quietly it was almost as if they had never been there.

***

Virgil pushed open the door to the fitting room, then stopped in their tracks in dismay. “Mother.”

“Hello, dear!” their mother said brightly, waving them over to herself and her favorite, most kiss-up, seamstress—Madam Solak, who visited her clients by appointment and definitely overcharged Virgil’s mother (not that Virgil blamed her), and was now nodding at Virgil in impersonal, disinterested greeting. The two women were doing… stars only knew what, with far too many bolts of fabric and some mannequins. 

“We’ve been going over patterns for your new clothes while we waited for you!” Virgil’s mother went on, sounding entirely too pleased.

Virgil could practically already feel the headache coming on. “Mother, you know I don’t wear skirts.” Xe crossed xyr arms, half of a mind to leave entirely and not let her fit them for a new wardrobe at all.

But she would find a way to get them to cooperate. She always did. And xe would rather not fight about it, not with all the overly polite posturing that came with fighting with Mother, which would make every time they saw her for the next two weeks an exhausting mind game. So they stayed in the doorway and waited to see what she’d say.

“Virgil, darling, really, now. I’m surprised at you. Aren’t you supposed to be the forward-thinking one of the family?” Mother put her hands on her hips. “Skirts are quite—quite gender-neutral these days, you know.” She almost hid the grimace she said it with. “Particularly in Flores,” she added brightly. “I’m sure the princes will be charmed!” She shot a glance at Madam Solak.

“Oh, yes, milady. I would expect nothing less.” The seamstress smiled politely, all gleaming teeth as she shook out a length of peach taffeta. Like she expected to make something Virgil would wear out of it. Disgusting.

Virgil gritted xyr teeth. “I know anyone can wear skirts.” But skirts were not gender neutral to their parents, no matter how politely they pretended not to stick to customs a century out of date, and as a result Virgil hadn’t been able to bring themself to wear one in years without feeling sickened inside, knowing what it meant to their parents. It infuriated xem, honestly—they’d loved skirts so much as a kid, and now their parents’ stupid attitude had ruined it for xem. “I still don’t want any.”

Mother only raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. “Well, why don’t you come let Madam Solak take your measurements while we discuss it?” she said, crooking one finger in command.

“I’m sure we can find something you’ll be happy with,” Madam Solak agreed, ostensibly speaking to Virgil. Not that Virgil’s opinion actually meant anything here; their mother was the one who was to be pleased.

Virgil huffed and crossed their arms and moved to where their mother had beckoned them to, letting xyr feet fall loudly on the floor to express xyr displeasure but not voicing any of it aloud.

Virgil was in a particularly bad mood today about this whole competition situation—this morning they’d been talking with an acquaintance, an events manager they’d worked with on a few concerts, who’d asked them to meet up at a local cafe. Fae had wanted to personally offer Virgil an invitation to perform in a series of local concerts over the summer. And Virgil, with so much regret xe would certainly have cried if xe’d been a crying person, had had to turn down the invitation. Because they would be in a different kingdom then. Wasting their time doing their best to avoid the competition for some idiot prince’s hand. Because xyr parents were basically determined to ruin xyr life, and destroy the name xe’d started to make for xemself in the local area, and mold xem into the perfect child to brag about by taking away everything interesting in their life. (Not that they knew they were doing that. But still.) It was infuriating and humiliating and Virgil hated it with everything in them. They’d stayed seated in the cafe long after their acquaintance had left, staring into their coffee as it went cold and clenching the cup so tightly they were a little surprised it hadn’t broken.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it now?” their mother said sweetly when Virgil stood before her and the seamstress.

“No,” Virgil lied, avoiding her gaze and instead staring at the patches of light on the floor where sunlight was shining through the thin window curtains. They raised their arms to let Madam Solak loop her tape measure around xyr waist. She shot them an apologetic smile that had about as much meaning as the thank-you notes Virgil had written after the last soiree their mother had insisted on them hosting.

“Now, I’m thinking some nice summer dresses—” their mother went on as Madam Solak continued expertly taking Virgil’s measurements.

Virgil gritted their teeth, doing their best to ignore their mother’s chatter and the way Madam Solak nodded along agreeably to all of it. Xe resolved to bring plenty of cash with xem and completely replace whatever wardrobe xyr mother packed xem for this stupid trip.

“—ruffles are so fashionable right now, and—”

Virgil groaned quietly and added “a box of matches” after “cash” on their mental packing list.

This trip was going to be the worst thing that ever happened to them.

***

Roman bid Remus and his parents goodnight early, retreating into his suite as if for the night. But he didn’t go to bed; rather, he remained fully dressed, pacing around his study and occasionally trying to read or journal or sketch or do anything he could think of to distract himself and while away the time.

He swore the clock was moving slower than usual just to spite him.

Just before eleven, it occurred to Roman that the outfit he was wearing was not romantic enough for a clandestine midnight meeting. Frantically sorting through his closet took up a good fifteen minutes, and trying on outfits another thirty. He finally decided on a white silk shirt with an open collar, a fitted red vest, white trousers that hugged his legs, and a delicate gold necklace about his throat. He didn’t attempt to do anything fancy with his hair, instead simply brushing it and sliding a pair of gold bar clips into it, one on either side, to hold the ends out of his face. Finally, he applied a thin stroke of eyeliner to his upper lids and blended out some crimson eyeshadow over it, even though it was nighttime and would no doubt be dark out in the rose garden, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns here and there to see by, so most of the effect of makeup would be lost, but he hardly wanted to present a bare face to Patton—Patton was worth effort. He hesitated over his lipsticks for a moment, then applied a bright red one to match the eyeshadow and blotted it until he was sure it was fully dry and wouldn’t smear or stain. Just in case—in case—well. In case. An in case that had his heartbeat quickening at the very notion, even as he shied away from thinking about it too hard.

He examined himself in the mirror, half twirling in either direction and nervously adjusting his necklace. At last he couldn’t think of anything else to do, and his stomach was squirming with nervous anticipation so hard it felt like a living thing inside him, and the clock said it was eleven-forty-five anyway and that was basically half past midnight, so he steeled himself and unlocked the door to the secret passage out of his rooms. He knew it was supposed to be only for emergencies, but—well—it was probably fine, right? He didn’t want to get caught and explain why he was going outside so late, and he definitely didn’t want the extra guards that nighttime required to accompany him. Besides, Remus had used his emergency escape route for something far less important earlier today, so really Roman felt it was practically entirely justified.

He made his way down to the exit, near the library, and from there it was only a couple of short hallways to another passage that led him out of the palace, and after that it was only a matter of being quiet as he went. Most of the outdoors guards at nighttime were stationed around the perimeter of the palace grounds, not inside the gardens, so it was not difficult to avoid them.

Roman made his way to the center of the rose garden. Gazing about himself, he realized he didn’t know what time it was anymore. It had probably taken him longer to walk here than it would have by a more direct route, but he wasn’t in the habit of using the secret passageways so he couldn’t be sure precisely how much time had elapsed. Patton could be here at any moment. Or Roman could be somehow too late, and perhaps Patton had already come and gone. Or he might not get here for a while still—Roman wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to get onto the palace grounds this late. Or he might have changed his mind and decided Roman wasn’t worth his time. Or—

“Roman?”

Roman whirled. There was Patton, standing at the edge of the little clearing Roman was waiting in, wearing a pale blue shirt with a light gray cardigan and matching gray slacks. His hair was loose about his face and he was hesitating, seeming to have paused almost mid-step.

He was the most perfect, beautiful thing Roman had ever seen.

“Patton!” Roman rushed across the space between them and caught Patton’s hands in his, entirely fixated on Patton’s beautiful dark eyes. “Patton, I—I’m so sorry—I should have told you, I shouldn’t have been such a coward, this is all my fault and I’m sorry and—”

“Hey,” Patton interrupted, sounding flustered, “hey, let’s—let’s slow down about that for a minute, you don’t need to be so mean to yourself about it.” He drew in a breath and gently squeezed Roman’s hands.

Which brought Roman’s attention to the fact that he was holding Patton’s hands in his. He hadn’t even thought about it when he’d taken them—it had been an impulsive gesture—but he discovered that very suddenly it was almost all he could think about. “Oh,” he said, cheeks flushing warm. “Oh, I—” He loosened his grip.

“No,” Patton said quickly, squeezing a little harder. “No, it—it’s good.” He glanced down at their joined hands, then back up at Roman, a small smile making its way onto his face. “It’s nice.”

Roman felt a beam spread unbidden across his face as his heart did a delightful little flip in his chest. “It is, isn’t it?” he asked, shyly squeezing Patton’s hands in return, unable to keep himself from staring at Patton’s full lips as he grinned back.

There was a beat of hesitant silence, both of them waiting to see what the other would do. Roman drew in a breath.

“Can I—”

“Would you—”

They both broke off, giggling softly.

“What were you saying?” Patton asked.

“No, no, you first,” Roman insisted.

Patton nodded. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Roman’s heart was struck by an unbidden jolt of nerves. But he did want to talk about it, wanted to hear everything Patton had to say, and apologize for all the things he’d done wrong, and he certainly owed it to Patton, anyway, regardless of what he himself wanted. He nodded and let Patton draw him over to the marble bench they’d so often sat side-by-side on, their hands still clasped.

“Alrighty,” Patton said, head bent as he stared down at Roman’s hands in his and rubbed his thumb along the side of Roman’s hand. “So.” He sounded hesitant and a little worried.

“I’m sorry,” Roman blurted. He kept going, letting all the words tumble out before he could overthink it. “I’m so sorry, Patton, this is all my fault, I—I should have told you. I really should have. I was—I was scared, and I told myself it was because I was afraid I would be pressuring you to make a choice you didn’t actually want to just because you felt sorry for me, but—Janus says I’m just afraid of letting myself be happy, and I—I think they’re right, and I let myself hurt you because I was scared, and it was so selfish of me, and I should never have done that. I’m—” His voice cracked and he sucked in a breath, doing his best to steady himself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I should have told you. I was wrong.”

Patton was quiet for a moment, still staring down at Roman’s hands. Roman’s heart thumped loud in his chest, in dreadful suspense as he waited, biting the inside of his cheek to force himself to stay quiet and not fill up the silence with nervous cheery words.

“It—did hurt my feelings,” Patton said at last, very quietly, “that you kept me from knowing—all the things. About the contest. I’m—I’m more upset about it than I let on to Jan, they were overreacting enough as it was.” He drew in a long breath and let it out. “And it—it doesn’t make it all the way better to know why you did it.”

Roman pressed his lips together and tried not to cry.

“But—” Patton went on, and Roman dared to hope with a bubble of anticipation in his chest so large that it hurt, “it does help. And I—I appreciate you wanting to protect me and respect me, and I appreciate you being honest about it all with me now. And I understand that none of your options were perfect.” He looked up and met Roman’s eyes at long last, his own eyes big and dark and beautiful behind his glasses, his face solemn and intent and softly sad and Roman wanted to kiss it better so badly—but he forced himself to refocus and keep listening.

“It’s not better,” Patton said carefully, “but I accept your apology, Roman. I forgive you. And I’d like to try and fix it together.”

“Of course,” Roman agreed at once, giddy relief rushing through him, “anything you want, I just—” He hesitated. “Shouldn’t it be my responsibility to fix?”

“Maybe,” Patton said, examining him up and down. A tiny smile quirked onto his face. “But I like you. So I want to help.”

He was perfect, he was perfect, and so good and so lovely and so handsome and so sweet and so funny and Roman wanted to kiss all the breath out of his lungs and then come back for more, but he settled instead for a choked, delighted little, “Alright,” because he was pretty sure there was nothing in the world he wouldn’t give Patton if he asked for it.  

Patton broke into a full smile. “Good. I’m glad. That’s settled, then.” He began rubbing his thumb along Roman’s hand again. “It is a little bit of a relief,” he added after a moment, quieter again.

“What is?” Roman asked, trying not to be entirely distracted by how nice the sensation of Patton’s calloused thumb against his skin was.

“Knowing all the parts of why you didn’t tell me.”

“Why?” Roman asked, not understanding what he was getting at.

Patton bit his lip and looked away. “You have very soft hands,” he said after a moment, a clear and sharp change of subject.

“You have very gentle ones,” Roman returned easily. “Patton, why is it a relief?” he pressed, something anxious tightening around his heart.

Patton shifted uncomfortably. “Well—I was—at first—I mean, before Jan explained it all—I was afraid it was—was an easy way to get rid of me. That you didn’t want me after all.” He stared at one of the rose bushes, not meeting Roman’s eyes, his shoulders tense and nervous.

It was a question, Roman realized, and a confession as well. Speaking aloud what neither of them had yet quite actually said. Even so, the answer was so obvious, so all-encompassing and so permeated throughout every part of Roman’s worldview, that it felt bizarre to see Patton so shy about it.

“Of course I want you, Patton,” he responded, eager and easy as breathing. He rose up on his knees on the bench, shifting closer to Patton.

Patton met his eyes again, looking up at him now from the change in angle. “Oh?”

Roman nodded fervently, clutching both Patton’s hands tighter and lifting them to hold against his heart. “Of course I do,” he repeated, choking up slightly with emotion. “With everything in me. I—Patton, I’ve been in love with you since the first time you gave me flowers.” He still remembered it with perfect clarity, even with how it had become almost a routine every time they saw each other since then; it had been a month or two after they’d met, and the sunshine had been gleaming off Patton’s hair, and he had been giggling at a pun Roman made in response to his own, and he’d clipped a rose right off the bush and tucked it into Roman’s hair and said the flower was almost as pretty as Roman was, and Roman’s heart had tumbled head-over-heels right into Patton’s hands and never left.

“Oh,” Patton breathed again, eyes wide and lips parting, gaze fixed on Roman’s face and hands clinging tightly to Roman’s. “Oh, you—you have? That’s—” He swallowed. “Oh,” he repeated, awed and emotional.

Roman nodded hard. “Of course I have, darling,” he assured him. “You’re you.”

Patton drew in a shaky breath, a smile just hovering at the corners of his mouth. “I could say the same about you.”  

Roman was struck by an impulse, and he let go of Patton’s hands for just a moment, half regretting it as he did just for the loss of his touch. He leaned away, reaching towards the nearest bush.

“What are you—?” Patton began.

“For you,” Roman said in explanation, plucking a white rose off the bush. He settled back on his knees before Patton, leaned in, and carefully tucked it into his dark hair. “It makes me think of you,” he added, half teasing in using the same phrasing Patton had, but also oh so serious. His hand lingered on Patton’s hair, finding a loose strand and smoothing it into place.

“You are a sweetheart,” Patton said, with a look in his eyes so adoring it made Roman’s heart ache with delight. He hesitated. “Roman?”

“Hm?” Roman replied in an unabashedly besotted tone, still playing with Patton’s hair.

“What were you going to say? Earlier. When we both spoke at once.”

“Oh.” Roman’s breath caught at the idea of how forward he had nearly been. “Well, I—I was—” He swallowed. “I was going to ask if I could kiss you,” he admitted, cheeks warm.

Patton was quiet for a beat, and Roman’s heart practically thumped out of his chest. Then he reached up and caught Roman’s hands in his once more, lifting them down from his hair, and looked up to meet Roman’s eyes.

“Well, what took you so long?” he asked. “Go ahead.”

Roman gasped, which made Patton’s eyes crinkle with a fond little smile, and Roman was not sure how this much love could fit in one person. Heart in his mouth—he had wanted this for so long, how was this real, how had he gotten so lucky?—he leaned down, slow and careful, not wanting to miss a second of it. Patton tilted his face up to meet him, their hands still clasped between them.

Roman took a breath and closed the remainder of the gap and pressed his lips to Patton’s.

It was only a quick little peck at first, neither of them daring to do more, but Roman barely pulled away at all, pressing his forehead and nose to Patton’s and gazing into his eyes.

Patton giggled, and it broke the tense anticipation like a charm.

And then both of them were laughing, shy and delighted, their faces so close together still, and after that it was the easiest thing in the world to lean in once more and kiss Patton, much longer and more surely this time, relishing in the way Patton sighed against his lips, and the way his mouth was so soft and warm and sweet, and the subtle scent of soap and plants that he always carried. Roman kissed him again, and again and again, barely stopping for breaths, and at some point Patton’s arms made their way around Roman’s neck and Roman’s hands cradled Patton’s face and then tangled in his hair, and they both slid closer to each other on the bench till they were pressed together, kissing and kissing and making up for all the months they had waited.

Roman was not sure if he had ever been so happy as he was now, but he was kissing the boy he loved and holding him in his arms and that was the most perfect thing in the world, so really nothing else mattered.

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